Till death do us part [ j.jk × p.jm ]

chapter 20

Jimin's movements were deliberate, each fold of the blanket, each shift of the pillow, a testament to his determination to keep his distance. He couldn't bear the thought of sharing a bed with Jeon Jungkook, the very idea stirring a concoction of repulsion and resentment within him.

Meanwhile, Jungkook lay sprawled across the expanse of the king-size bed, his form a stark contrast to the starkness of the room. His eyes, however, betrayed a flicker of something deeper than disdain as he observed Jimin's makeshift sleeping arrangements. It was a peculiar sensation, this pang of guilt that gnawed at his insides, a feeling he couldn't quite comprehend nor shake off.

As the silence between them grew thicker, punctuated only by the rustle of fabric and the soft echo of their breaths, Jungkook finally found his voice, breaking the fragile equilibrium that held them apart.

"We can trade," he offered, the words laden with an unspoken plea, a desperate attempt to bridge the chasm that yawned between them. But Jimin's response was swift, laced with bitterness and a hint of defiance.

"No thanks," came the curt reply.  "I would hate to deprive you of your kingly soft bed."

The retort hung in the air like a bitter aftertaste, a reminder of the rift that separated them, of the wounds that festered beneath the surface. And as Jungkook bristled at Jimin's words, a whispered curse escaped his lips, a fleeting glimpse of the resentment that simmered within.

"Well, you're also an ungrateful bastard," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper as he turned away, plunging the room into darkness with a flick of his hand. And in that moment, as shadows swallowed them whole and silence enveloped them like a shroud, they were left alone with their thoughts, their regrets, and the unspoken truths that bound them together in a tangled web of longing and loathing.

In the deep embrace of the night, a profound silence enveloped the room, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock, marking the passage of time with unforgiving precision. Two o'clock had come and gone, yet for Jungkook, sleep remained an elusive dream, slipping through his grasp like fine sand.

Restlessly tossing and turning in his bed, Jungkook's thoughts swirled in a maelstrom of turmoil. The weight of unresolved tension hung heavy in the air, casting a pall over his restless mind. It was then, in the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, that his gaze fell upon Jimin.

There, on the floor, lay Jimin, cocooned in a thin blanket, his features softened by the embrace of sleep. For a moment, Jungkook found himself ensnared by a web of conflicting emotions. Despite their tumultuous relationship, a pang of guilt tugged at his conscience as he regarded the slumbering figure before him.

Driven by an impulse he couldn't quite comprehend, Jungkook rose from his bed with a sense of purpose. Crossing the room with determined strides, he knelt beside Jimin, his movements hesitant yet resolute. With gentle hands, he lifted Jimin from the floor, cradling him as if he were the most fragile of treasures.

As he laid Jimin upon his own bed, the moonlight cast a soft halo around his features, accentuating the delicate curve of his sleeping form. Jungkook couldn't help but marvel at the sight, a sense of wonder mingling with the familiar ache of resentment.

"Impossible for such an arrogant brat to look so harmless when he sleeps.," Jungkook whispered softly, his words a gentle caress against the stillness of the night. Yet, beneath the veneer of jest, lay a profound admiration for the resilience that Jimin exuded, even in the face of their shared animosity."Sometimes I feel like you want to kill me with that ugly look."

With tender care, Jungkook tucked Jimin beneath the covers, his touch feather-light against the fabric. Settling himself on the floor beside the bed, he allowed exhaustion to claim him, his thoughts consumed by the enigma that was Jimin. In that quiet moment, as sleep finally beckoned, Jungkook found himself drawn to the mystery that lay beneath Jimin's seemingly impenetrable exterior.

As the morning sun gently filtered through the curtains, Hoseok began his routine, preparing for another day of classes. With his toothbrush in hand, he absentmindedly hummed a tune, the usual soundtrack to his morning rituals. Yet, amidst the mundane tasks, a sudden burst of heated voices pierced through the tranquility of his apartment.

Pausing mid-brush, Hoseok's ears perked up, recognizing the unmistakable tones of his neighbors engaged in a heated exchange. Setting down his toothbrush, he moved closer to the window, curiosity piqued by the intensity of the argument.

Through the thin walls, fragments of accusations and pleas echoed, painting a picture of marital discord. It was then that Hoseok realized the voice of the man, Mr. Ok, resonating with a mixture of anger and desperation. The revelation sent a jolt of concern through him, igniting a sense of urgency to understand the situation unfolding next door.

Without a second thought, Hoseok hastily flung open his window, the crisp morning air rushing in to greet him. Leaning out, he strained to catch every word exchanged between the feuding couple, his senses heightened by the gravity of their confrontation.

There, amidst the backdrop of the quiet neighborhood, stood Mr. Ok and his wife, locked in a tense standoff. As accusations of infidelity hung heavy in the air, Hoseok's heart went out to the betrayed spouse, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and indignation.

In a spontaneous act of solidarity, Hoseok reached for his smartphone, fingers trembling slightly as he activated the recording function. With each passing moment, he captured the raw emotions playing out before him, driven by a desire to bear witness to the truth and seek justice for the wronged party.